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Saturday, October 22, 2016

Beach Bummin'

There's still sand on the floorboard of
my husband's car. It makes me smile as I remember the constant
hopping in and out of the vehicle with sand-encrusted feet and
flip-flops as we played on a South Carolina beach. The powder-blue
plastic wristband still slides up and down my forearm...even though
the hotel pools and hot tubs it granted me access to are now 650
miles away. And before the clothes were even unpacked from our
suitcases, the complimentary photo of us eating at a calabash seafood
restaurant was posted on the fridge, reminding me of endless smiles
from the miles traveled on the vacation now ended. Let's just say I'm
having a little trouble letting go of the week just past.

Maybe it's because I'm not supposed to.
Oh, to be sure, there's no escaping the return to real life; work
schedules and household chores demand my attention once more. Already
I feel the encroachment of tension and worry into my subconscious,
trying to wrestle my mind from the rest found in sunrises and sea
breezes and attach it to the tasks waiting to be tackled. But God
would tell me not to wipe the sea foam from my eyeglasses just yet.

There are purposes to vacations that
are vastly more important than just getting away. We need more than
just a break from our regular routines; we need a new outlook on
life. Every getaway is really a chance to reset our thinking, refocus
our eyes, and restart how we live our lives from this point forward.
If we limit our vacations to just a few days of play we lose out on
the lessons God meant to impart into our hearts.

Some groan at the thought of adding yet
another task to what is supposed to be time off from the same.
Thankfully life lessons abound in everything around us; capturing
them as we walk out our days is a game as addicting as Pokemon Go,
once we download the idea into our thinking processes and set off to
see what we can find.

God makes it surprisingly easy. He told
me he wanted me to lighten up, to shed some things that were weighing
me down. It just took me a while to realize what they were.

The first day we were in Myrtle Beach I
carried my sweatshirt with me everywhere we went as we walked first
the beach and then the storefront sidewalks. Storm clouds littered
the horizon; shouldn't I be ready for a sudden downpour? Restaurants
that offer a respite from the heat often offer a seat right under an
air conditioning vent; I didn't want to shiver as I shoveled in the
food. Best to be prepared...or so I thought. Soon the bulky extra
weight began to bother me, and when God asked me if I wasn't getting
tired of caring that thing all around, I was finally ready to hang
The Fear of What Might Happen on a hook in the hotel room. I didn't
touch it the rest of the trip.

I love to get up early and walk a beach
while the morning is still fresh, the sun just breaking through the
clouds and the the water rushing to the shore to wave repeated
greetings to me as I pass by. But on our first morning there I
overdid it just a bit; the sun was still sleeping and the hotel
coffee bar was still closed. No problem; I'd just hoof it half a mile
to the Starbucks down the road and load up on coffee there. But I had
only taken a few steps out the door when I became painfully aware of
my situation. I was alone in the dark carrying a big purse that held
all our vacation money and gift cards, as well as anything I might
need to occupy myself with while my husband slept in. As it turned
out, I did get robbed, emotionally, if not physically; the simple joy
of the morning was stolen away because I was burdened by treasure I
held in my hands instead of my heart. What did I really need to walk
the beach? Just two legs, a cup of coffee and my phone tucked into a
pocket. Later that morning I shoved The Fear of Lack into a dresser
drawer and slammed it shut.

The last to go was probably the
hardest. My husband wanted us to hit the pool deck; the two swimming
pools, a circular moat filled with inner tube floats, and two hot
tubs were calling his name. But to enjoy them meant to shed the
clothing covering one's biggest source of insecurity; our perception
of the way we look. We simply don't like to expose our flaws to
public scrutiny. But one of the joys of traveling off-season is that
all the beautiful bodies are usually back at work or school;
everybody lounging in the pool area was likely as pale, fat and old
as we were. On went the bathing suits and off we went. Once we hit
the deck I realized that my fears were groundless. Nobody was
“scrutinizing” anybody; they were too busy swimming, soaking or
floating in the last of the summer sun; we simply joined in the fun.
And at the end of a couple of hours of delightful play, I smiled as I
threw our swimsuits over the bathroom shower rod, realizing with a
smile I had hung my Fear of What Others Might Think out to dry, as
well.

Souvenir shopping is always a part of
my vacation fun, so I was surprised that I came away with just one –
a key chain made of a colorful collection of starfish and shells.
That bit of bling on a ring simply reminds me that the days ahead
will be richer because of what I left behind.

“Therefore then...let
us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary
weight)...”

About Me

Welcome to my blog! I hope you find something here to bless and encourage you. I love writing about incidents in my life that reveal God's active presence in it and His incredible love for us all. I'm a happily married mother of three wonderful sons.
Please visit me also at aheart4heaven.blogspot.com, elainein3d.blogspot.com,
www.spontaeoussputterings.blogspot.com